bridge ☹ calum hood ☹ book two

calum.

walking past the bridge was a normal routine of mine.

 

i’d leave my house early,

 

walk past the cemetery where too many memories were laid to rest,

 

and end up somewhere completely new every day.

 

sometimes it’d be starbucks,

 

other times it could be the small bookstore on the corner.

 

but i’d never gone a day without seeing the girl on the bridge.

 

she’d sit there, reading, and wouldn’t even glance up as i walked past her.

 

she was reading the same book every day,

 

and i’d always wondered why.

 

i didn’t blame her, though.

 

looking for alaska was one of the best books she could have chosen to bask in.

 

one day, i finally got the courage to stop and say something.

 

i walked past like i had every day for the past month and a half, and then i said to myself,

 

fuck it, im going to go and sit down next to her.

 

so i turned around, and walked over to where she was, and sat down next to her on the bridge.

 

“hi, im calum and im going to bring you a new book.” i said, deciding to skip the small talk.

 

“will you be here tomorrow?”

 

and for the first time, she looked up at me and said,

 

“same time, as always.”

 

sincerely,

calum.